


Something New

by footprints



Category: Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:00:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footprints/pseuds/footprints
Summary: "Is this what friends do, where you're from?"
Relationships: "Blondie" | The Man with No Name/Tuco Ramirez
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Something New

The sheer effort of running, with the sun in his eyes, hands tied in front of him. Struggling to keep up with the horse as it gallops ahead of him. A thought emerges, unbidden - that this time, he won't make it, will be caught and marched back into town, hanged for the last time, for real. And Blondie wouldn't give a damn, wouldn't even look back, the bastard.

Then, Blondie's slowing the horse down, reaching for him. A sharp pain in his shoulders as he's dragged up, pressing against Blondie, relief coursing through his system. He knew he'd make it. He always does.

A long ride later and his shoulders ache almost unbearably, legs straining as he tries to steady himself.

"We can stop now, yes, Blondie?" he asks.

"Not yet," and Tuco should have known that if Blondie wanted to stop, then they would have already made camp. Blondie's always cautious, always riding out much farther than anyone in pursuit would ever follow. It's kept them alive, though, he'll give him that. 

When they finally stop riding, he jerks his shoulders, trying to dismount and failing. Blondie pulls him down with a smirk, then starts walking away, counting the money and putting it in his jacket.

"You forget something?" Tuco says, tipping his head. "Need to get these off."

Blondie stalks up to him, cupping his face and smiling, almost fondly, then slaps him lightly. Being manhandled by Blondie is nothing new. It shouldn't feel any different. Blondie's looking at him with more than the usual intensity, though, and standing too close. It's unnerving. 

"Seems to me that I shouldn't."

Tuco is suddenly very aware of who has his hands tied, and who has the knife.

"This isn't making me laugh, you know, Blondie. I need to move, eat, drink, yes?"

"You need to be quiet. You nearly got us killed back there."

"We look alive to me, friend. And three thousand dollars richer. Now untie me."

Blondie still hasn't moved away, still hasn't stopped staring. "Maybe I won't, this time. Maybe this is where we part ways. You can walk back into town. Get those legs working again."

"Ah, now I'm laughing - you're funny, Blondie, you're a funny man!"

"And you're a liability."

Blondie reaches a hand out and touches his belt, fingering the edge of it. Now this, this is something new. 

He's not that surprised when Blondie starts undoing the buckle. He may not understand Blondie, but he understands the relief of evading capture, the euphoria of holding money in your hand that shouldn't by rights be yours. Knows of long, lonely nights in the desert. And of anger. It hasn't turned this way before, for them, but Tuco's not going to complain now that it has.

Tuco shifts as Blondie gets him out and strokes him. "Hey, is this what friends do, where you're from?"

Blondie smiles again. "It's what I'm doing, where we are."

"You going to let me return the favour, eh, Blondie? Cut me loose?"

"It's better to give than receive, I've heard."

"Sure, for whores and their mothers," Tuco says, without any real weight behind it, but Blondie slaps him again, backhanded, properly this time. Tuco grins. This he also understands.

"You like this, Blondie?"

Blondie strokes faster, his other hand moving to grasp the side of Tuco's arm. Holding his gaze, expression static and unreadable, like he's staring down the barrel of a rifle.

"Maybe I just like seeing you sweat."

And Blondie's right, damn him, this _is_ making him sweat, the sun blazing down, his shoulders still aching. But it's good. Blondie might think otherwise, and that might be the point, but it's still good. Blondie's fist twists, and he closes his eyes, hissing.

Could be anyone, of course. He's just cheated the noose. Gets a man's blood going. Tuco will take what he can get, has never been particularly concerned with who from. But his eyes open to look at Blondie, anyway. Can't hurt to look. Even though looking makes him want to touch. And he's getting closer. He moans.

"Still funny, Tuco?"

"As your funeral will be, friend."

"I doubt I'll be seeing you there."

Tuco does laugh at that, although he's not sure if Blondie's joking. Can never tell. He tenses, decides to not give any warning as he comes, partly on the ground between them, partly on his own tied hands. Leaning forward against Blondie even as the man pulls back, grimacing.

Blondie cuts the rope between his wrists. A second release, almost as good as the first. He looks back at Blondie as he stretches, does his belt up. He's known worse punishments.

Blondie counts out his half of the money, hands it to him. "Run faster, next time."

"You untie me, next time, and we'll see about this giving and receiving."

Blondie hums noncommittally, but clasps his shoulder as he walks past towards the horse. Tuco takes a quick glance down, can see that Blondie's hard. The first time, but probably not the last, then. New habits are easy to fall into.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Blondie/Tuco fic was based on reading their partnership as a much deeper connection than either of them would like to admit. This fic is based more on them being laid-back, horny, and mad at each other. Both interpretations seem true to canon, for me, depending on where we are in the endless double-crossing and alliances.


End file.
